


From Zero

by Keibey



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:58:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3632355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keibey/pseuds/Keibey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moving was never easy, but Slaine thought he might be having a particularly hard time of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Zero

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Misu! Saturday coping fic; it's the last episode today, huh? You guys okay?

In hindsight, It was a _horribly_ bad idea to try and move two boxes at once when he knew Pawsis was still irritated and having decided, in her flawless cat logic, that barrelling around the small apartment was the obvious answer to all her problems. Slaine would have kept her in the bedroom at least until he was done with moving in the boxes, but she would have none of it. 

As it were, he felt something fluffy weave between his legs at top speed, toppling him over as the boxes fell with a loud crash around him. He looked around quickly to make sure Pawsis was okay, heaving a sigh of relief when he noticed the white and grey fluff-ball squinting back at him from a couple metres away. 

“Are you alright?” The quiet voice wasn’t one he recognized, and he turned his head to look at the front door. The boy looked about his age, black hair fluffy but not unkept. The casual clothes seeming to hang off his slender frame so that the sleeve of his cardigan slid over the hand holding the grocery bag, but what caught Slaine’s attention the most was the brown eyes matching the curiously blank expression on his face. 

“Fine!” Slaine said hurriedly when he realized he had probably been staring too long, standing up and straightening his clothes self-consciously, “I’m fine, thank you. You are...?” 

“Kaizuka Inaho,” the brunet offered simply, “I live next door.” 

“I’m Slaine Troyard,” he smiled nervously, “I just–” 

“Moved here,” Inaho finished; Slaine guessed that fact was pretty obvious from the still boxes piled in the hallway, but the brunet’s attention was directed at the kitchen. “It’s burning.” 

Slaine yelped and jumped up, rushing over to pull the forgotten pan off the stove. The food that he had been heating up was hopelessly burnt, and he sighed quietly; it would be just like his luck. Putting the mess into the sink to soak, Slaine nearly jumped when Inaho spoke. “I could make you dinner.” 

“N-No,” he shook his head as he started towards the entryway, not wanting to be impolite and yell across the apartment, small as it was, “I can’t possibly!” 

“I’ll have to cook for myself anyway; adding a portion won’t make much of a difference.” Inaho stepped into the house, sliding out of his shoes with practice ease, "Would you eat omelette rice?” 

“Ah, yes,” Slaine answered uncertainly. He reached out when the brunet passed him, but he pulled his hand back at the last second, trailing behind Inaho instead. “Is there anything I can help with?” 

“It’s fine.” Inaho pulled out a carton of eggs and set it onto the counter, eying the haphazard stack of pans Slaine had left there. “I’ll get anything I’m missing from my own place.” 

Slaine hovered uncertainly behind Inaho, but the brunet was clearly focused on carefully extracting a pan from the pile. He looked guiltily between the boxes and his neighbour. “I’ll just keep cleaning up, then,” he said, uncertainty making it come out more like a question, but his nerves settled when Inaho nodded. 

There weren’t many boxes left to move into the apartment, but Slaine was distracted, stealing glances over his shoulder. Inaho had left once, and then came back with seemingly everything the brunet would ever need tucked under thin arms or packed into plastic bags, a plain black apron on top of his clothes. By the time Slaine was done and could finally close his front door, Inaho had moved on from expertly chopping onions and greens and cubing chicken to sautéing everything in a frying pan. 

Inaho hadn’t paid any attention to Pawsis at all, despite the cat being completely fascinated by him. She had spent the entire time either weaving between the brunet’s legs or standing to affectionately butt her head against Inaho’s thigh. Slaine went over to scoop her into his arms, resting a hip against the counter so that the both of them could watch. 

“Leftover rice works better for fry rice,” Inaho offered without prompting, and Slaine tensed as if he had been caught staring, heat flooding his face. He made a quiet noise of acknowledgement, too nervous to trust his voice, and Pawsis gave a matching meow. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he caught a glimpse of the smallest smile on Inaho’s face when the brunet turned to dump the fried rice into a bowl. 

If Slaine had any doubts about the level of skill Inaho had in cooking, it was dispelled when the brunet managed to wrap the rice in an intact omelette with nothing but a few flicks of the wrist and gentle nudges with chopsticks. Inaho slid the completed one onto a plate and then repeated the whole thing with another, pulling a squeeze bottle of ketchup and drizzling it onto both with practiced ease. 

“You haven’t set up your dinner table,” the brunet turned to him, reaching back to untie the apron. 

“Oh, um, we can use the couch!” It couldn’t be said that he dropped Pawsis in his haste to the couch, since the cat launched out of his arms before he had much say in the matter, but it left his hands free to pull off the plastic covering from the move. Inaho followed him without a word, plates in hand. 

The couch hadn’t seemed so small before, but when they sat down Slaine felt Inaho’s arm brush against his. He had barely accepted his plate before Pawsis jumped up between them, blue eyes looking up adoringly at the brunet. Shaking his head, Slaine nudged the cat off, but they had eaten in peace for less than five minutes before she was back. She meowed pitifully when he urged her down this time, and from experience Slaine knew he wouldn’t have the willpower to deny her a third time.

Smiling apologetically, Slaine said, “She usually doesn’t take to strangers so well.” 

“What’s her name?” 

“She’s, um,” he hesitated just as his cat jumped back up, the fluff-ball happily accepting Inaho’s attention as the slender fingers caught the tag on the collar. 

“Pawsis?” Slaine kept his eyes fixed on his cat, knowing his face was bright red and fully expecting the mockery that was sure to follow. “It’s a cute name.” 

Surprise was too light of a word to describe the emotion he felt as he stared at Inaho. It took a moment until he could find his voice. “Do you like cats, Kaizuka-san?” 

“Just ’Inaho’ is fine,” the brunet looked up to meet his gaze, but the slender hand never left the soft fur, “I do, but Yuki-nee is allergic.” 

“Oh.” Taking in the softened brown eyes, Slaine smiled. “You can come visit us, if you’d like.” 

Inaho stared wordlessly at him for so long that he began to wonder if he had said something wrong. “Maybe.” The brunet nodded to the polished plate in Slaine’s hands. “I’ll wash the dishes before I go.” 

“You can’t!’ Slaine said, “You’ve already cooked, and you’re my guest–“ 

“I’m used to it. Don’t you have to unpack the things you need for tonight?” 

It was true; he had only gotten his cat’s things set up. “I do,” he admitted, letting Inaho take his plate, “Thank you.” 

Inaho walked away with a dismissive shrug that Slaine suspected was more effort than the brunet generally put into conversation, and he shared a smile with Pawsis. His cat rubbed against his offered hand before jumping off the couch and trotting after Inaho, and Slaine shook his head with a fond smile. 

Even with the labels scrawled over the cardboard, it took him a while to find the right box, and he hefted it into the bathroom with one last glance at the brunet. It was tempting to just dump it there without actually unpacking, the fatigue finally catching up to him, but he knew it would just be more work later, when he was likely to feel like just flopping onto his bed. 

When Slaine emerged from the bathroom with an empty box and his toiletries in some sense of order, both cat and brunet was more or less where he had left them. Inaho had found a towel from somewhere and was almost done wiping the dishes all dry, packing everything into the bags as he went. Slaine offered the empty box to his cat, laughing when she jumped in immediately to curl up. He straightened and joined his neighbour at the counter. “Thank you so much, Inaho-san.” 

“It’s nothing,” the brunet said flatly, but added after a pause, “it’s nice to have company.” 

Slaine grabbed one of the bags before Inaho could, even though the walk to the entryway was only a few steps. He waited for Inaho to slip on the shoes before opening the door, handing the bag back with a smile. “Goodnight, Inaho-san.” 

At first Slaine thought all he would get was a noncommittal hum, but Inaho looked him in the eye, voice soft, “Goodnight, Slaine.”


End file.
